


Love My Way

by ColdFeetBeforeSunrise



Category: Halt and Catch Fire
Genre: Coming Out, F/F, Family Fluff, Friends to Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Internalized Homophobia, More than Work Wives?, Our faves raise the girls together, Phoenix comes to be, Slow Burn, Work Wives, donna pov, read and find out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-01 10:27:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13292883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColdFeetBeforeSunrise/pseuds/ColdFeetBeforeSunrise
Summary: Cameron shifts her head into Donna’s lap, yawning, “I never told you.”“What?” Donna runs her fingers through Cameron’s locks.“You’re the only person who’s ever finished Pilgrim.”Donna shifts beneath her, a little shocked. She knew she’d been one of the few, and that it had meant a lot to Cameron, but she hadn’t realized she’d been the only.“I mean, to be fair, Gordon never got to try it, but…” Cameron licks her lips, and for some reason Donna’s eyes are drawn to them, “sometimes I think I made that game just for you.”Or:Donna and Cameron finally get the happy ending they deserve.





	1. It’s All Right (Baby’s Coming Back)

**Author's Note:**

> I really needed this. So, for the five of you that needed this story the way I did, here you are.
> 
> There's a fourth chapter floating around in my head. Thoughts? Ideas? 
> 
> Enjoy!!

 

 

          She doesn’t expect to hear from Cameron for the entire three weeks she’s gone.

 

           And why would she? Cameron’s never been one to call or email or _keep up_ with people. Cameron had been known to leave for weeks at a time and never call, and while, sure, she never went full Joe with her disappearing act and they mostly at least had an idea of _where_ she was, she did not call. While they were working on the browser, when she pressed him, Gordon would complain that Cameron never called. 3 years and he had heard from her only a handful of times. It was one of the grand hallmarks of her personality—she was frustratingly hard to communicate with, but every scrap of attention she gave you felt like you’d just _discovered_ something.

 

            And this is why Donna leaves a meeting—an important one—when Ashley steps in to tell her Cameron’s on the line. When she gets back to her office she wipes her sweaty hands on her pencil skirt and takes a deep breath before picking up the phone with a practiced ease.

 

           “This is Donna.”

 

            “You’re hard to get a hold of.” She can hear the smirk on Cameron’s face and it makes her smile. “Oh?”

 

            “I tried your house first. Haley told me you were here. Don’t you guys take a Thanksgiving break?”

 

            “Thanksgiving is next week.”

 

            “True, but you’re the boss, you can make time.”

 

            “True.”

 

            There’s a break in the conversation. Donna doesn’t let the silence linger, a little afraid Cameron will get bored and hang up if she does: “You called me.”

 

            Cam laughs the comment off, launching into a story about a gas station in Tallahassee and going on to explain a specific thought she had with regards to Phoenix.

           (And how convenient that they had named the company before they thought up the idea—the name had made it feel real in a way Donna had desperately needed in her life. She needed something real; something real with someone she cared about.)

 

            Donna listens passively, mhmm-ing in all the right places, knowing that if it had been anyone else, anything else, she would not have left that meeting and taken this call. But the excitement in Cameron’s voice, and the way she can feel Cameron trying to come up with _something_ to say to her, _something_ to keep her on the line, keeps Donna there.

 

            And her heart warms. She smiles too fully, laughs too easily.

 

            God, it’s been a long time since she’s been this happy.

 

            But Cameron’s stalling. And while Donna’s flattered that she’s chosen her to stall with, Tallahassee is not far from Cameron’s mother’s place… and, by the sound of it, Cameron hasn’t gotten there yet.

 

            “… why are you really calling, Cameron?”

 

            When Cam doesn’t say anything, Donna tries again, “Are you at your mom’s yet?”

            “…no.”

 

            Cameron sighs, adjusting the phone. Donna can hear her breathing.

           

            “No. I… I’m having trouble with these last few miles.”

 

            “Ah. The miles.”

 

            She pauses again, her mind suddenly flooding with images of the miles and miles she drove out to Bonny Doon, where Cameron’s trailer is. The images briefly fill her with the same sense of deep anxiety she felt on the drive, but before they can overtake her—

 

            “You should go, Cameron. Being there can’t be worse than any of the scenarios you’re imagining now.”

 

            A hollow laugh, “You’re probably right.”

 

            After a moment, Cameron speaks again: “I’ll be back in 2 weeks.”

 

            “You said that.”

 

            “I mean it,” She hears Cameron swallow, “I’m just… I’m trying to be better about doing the things I promise. And I want you to know… I’m all in. This project. This partnership.”

 

            “Me too.” Donna tells her, and something warm shoots up from her gut. She bites her lip.

 

            “I’m gonna go now. Wish me luck.”

 

            “Luck.” The phone clicks, and Donna sighs, “… see you soon.”

 

            Donna puts down the phone, feeling a little silly, but mostly excited. She walks back into the meeting with a smile.

 

                    - - - - -

 

            “So when is she getting here?” Haley says, eyes barely drifting from the computer in front of her.

 

            “Soon. Tonight.”

 

            “It’s pretty late already,” As though to make her point, Haley yawns, “I don’t know how much longer I can stay up.”

 

            “Yeah. I might just leave a note on the door and the key under the mat. We can say hi at breakfast.” Donna takes a sip of her water. Haley stands, yawning again. She turns the monitor off.

 

            “Okay. Goodnight mom.”

 

            “Goodnight.” Donna gives her a hug and a kiss, watching her leave.

 

            She stands in the kitchen alone, pondering for a bit before setting down her glass of water and pacing over to where she can see the driveway.

 

            There’s not a chance Donna will actually be able to sleep tonight. Somewhere, deep in her bones, she knows it. She passes Haley’s C++ textbook on the couch and curls up in a chair, cracking it open.

           

            When she sees Cameron’s headlights coming over the hill, she stands. Some instinct has her wanting to look herself over in a mirror and even the thought makes her feel ridiculous. Instead, she takes her glass back over to the sink and puts Haley’s book back where it was on the couch.

 

            Something about Cameron sparks this anxiousness in her—even now, after the baggage has been cleared and the grudge eroded down to nothing, she feels as anxious as the last time she saw her. She remembers how suddenly she’d pulled her into a hug in this very kitchen, Cameron still holding tomatoes in her hands, unable to hug back.

 

            There was something primal about that hug, a nervous need to have Cameron close that Donna didn’t understand in herself. She remained worried that in Cameron’s presence some part of her would remain this… unpredictably needy person. Anxious and excited. Awkward and easily unnerved.

 

            Her anxiousness takes her outside. And Cameron’s brief “hey” after pulling her bag from the car is swallowed whole by a hug Donna didn’t know she would be giving.

 

            For the first time, though, Cameron really hugs her back.

           

 


	2. Maybe I’m Amazed (At The Way You Love Me All The Time)

         Cameron sleeps in Joanie’s room that first night. She stays several nights after, coding and geeking out with Haley and turning Donna’s study into her own personal explosion of paper, pens, and ideas.

          

         And Donna’s not even mad. She’s so happy to have her there.

 

         The house is quiet without Joanie. And having Haley there every week, indefinitely, while a lovely thing and something that Donna would never claim to not want, reminds them both that there is no Gordon’s to go to. No Gordon.

 

          Cameron’s company lifts a weight off their shoulders. She brings oxygen back into the house, filling it with life. Donna re-discovers staying up all night talking. Gaming with others. Microwave popcorn. For several nights in a row, it doesn’t even occur to Donna to pour herself a glass of wine.

 

          “Imagine if we’d been able to integrate this with Swap-meet,” Cameron says during one of their late-night brainstorms. The hours had been taking a toll on Donna’s work, and she’d cut back the amount of time she’d been spending at the office to compensate.

 

          “Imagine…” Donna says, running her hand over a piece of paper stuck to the wall, illustrating a mockup of Phoenix’s home page, “We didn’t have a clue.”

 

           Phoenix had evolved from Donna’s initial idea—a digital cash register—into a way to easily store and pay each other money over the web. Their current iteration was simple (basic transactions, accounts, and of course the all-important encryption code), but what excited them both was the endless amount of directions they could take this idea in. Cameron, in particular, was fond of trying to find a way to integrate the tool onto websites for easier online shopping. Donna, of course, preferred the (safer, smarter) idea of turning the whole thing into a mobile bank. They laughed at how predictable their interests (and conflicts) were, before agreeing that in time, they’d do both.

 

           Haley found this idea “majorly boring”, instead decently preoccupied with some website she was building (a blog, Donna and Cameron discovered, one night when they went snooping). She’d turned 16 in February, and spent a good portion of the party complaining about the dress she’d forced herself to wear.

 

           Joanie had called from Norway, telling them about the northern lights. She very religiously sent post cards (“That’s odd,” Cameron says one night, eyeing the one from Germany, “I guess she’s less of a dick now.”) updating them on her whereabouts and giving them lovely keepsakes from her travels. Upon learning Cameron is with them, Joanie’s post cards (and later, full letters) become more detailed. Donna doesn’t feel the jealousy she expects when there’s a letter just for Cameron, instead finding herself delighting in the relationship Cameron has built with her girls.

 

          (One night, when they’re eating popcorn and watching _Message in a Bottle_ , Cameron mentions how Donna’s kids might be the only kids she could ever truly love. Donna struggles not to tear up.)

 

          Cameron does return to her trailer. Not as often as either of them expect. On nights Cameron’s not in Joanie’s bedroom, some part of Donna remains restless. But Cameron is never gone long. She wonders if she feels it too.

 

          “I don’t think I felt one tenth of what I felt for Joe. They’re not even comparable…” Cameron says one night over wine (Donna does, eventually, start drinking again. She paces herself.), “When I look back at my life with Tom, it feels like some dumb plot in a video game. A side quest. One I spent too much time on.”

            This makes Donna smile fondly. She clinks their glasses together, “To side quests!”

            (Later, more solemnly, when Cameron recalls the moment she knew it wasn’t going to work with Joe, Donna moves over to the couch to pull her into an embrace. They stay that way for a while.)

 

            --------------

 

            After that, something shifts.

 

            Donna, when she feels particularly inclined to reflect, has always thought of herself as the person that cared more, in every relationship. In her marriage to Gordon. As a mother. In her work relationships.

 

Bos had mentioned once that he believed every relationship had a flower and a gardener: someone always put in more work. If you were lucky, over your lifetime, that work would shift from one half of the couple to the other half and back again. It did with Diane, he said. And that’s why he married her.

 

Cameron had not been back to the trailer in over a month (“Have you considered getting rid of it?” Haley had asked, before Donna had shot her a look, “…what? She doesn’t spend time there anyway.”). When Donna was home, Cameron was nearly always by her side—cooking, cleaning; somehow contributing to their home in ways Donna had never required. Never anticipated.

 

Their home. That’s what it feels like now.

 

She doesn’t entertain thoughts of what others might think of them, of her having Cameron in her house despite the fact that Cameron both has a place (a _camper_ ) of her own and can afford a much bigger place, if she wanted. She knows they need this.

 

She, Haley, and Cameron are what’s left of a larger family. They need each other.

 

She feels Cameron change. Just in the ways that Cameron attends to her, talks to her, _listens_ to her (and really listens, not the way she sort of did while brainstorming together at Mutiny). She always makes Donna and Haley snacks when she makes them for herself, always accompanies Donna to the grocery store, always offers to pay (all things that she’d complained to Gordon about the last time Cameron lived with them, all those years ago).

 

While having late-night wine over a puzzle, Donna finds herself (not for the first time) watching Cameron work. They sit close, huddling under a lamp that lets them see what they’re doing. The bright light shines yellow in Cameron’s hair, reminding Donna of their days at Mutiny. She stares for longer than she intends to, and when Cameron shifts to look at her the confusion that crinkles her brow makes Donna want to move closer.

 

She catches herself, returning her gaze back to the puzzle. She can feel Cameron’s eyes on her. Scanning her. Wondering.

 

What _was_ that?

 

Donna starts to stand, ready to retire to bed, when suddenly the phone rings.

 

Cam rushes to it, picking it up hastily: “Emerson residence.”

 

Donna smiles, because Cameron said that to make her smile.

 

Cameron listens. Donna watches her.

 

Her face breaks out in a smile.

 

“It’s Joanie. She’s coming home.”

 


	3. Just The Two Of Us

The finished prototype happens to coincide with the night before Joanie arrives home, and Cameron and Donna privately celebrate with a late-night swim and glass of wine, soon after retreating into the house so that they can pull out pieces of the cake Donna and Haley had baked together.

 

Cameron eats so differently from the way she does anything else, picking at her food like she’s forgotten it’s there and laughing at Donna’s jokes like they’re the only jokes she’s ever heard. They’re both giddy, still wet and in towels and standing barefoot in the kitchen.

 

Haley’s gone to hang out with her new friend, Natalie (“A friend?” Donna says one night, and Cameron shrugs: “Let’s hope not.”) and called earlier to say she was sleeping over there, and that she would be home in the morning before they went to pick Joanie up from the airport. Donna and Cameron take this as license to play music loudly, changing into pjs just to be able to tumble and move the way they want to.

 

At some point Donna’s just swaying and smiling sleepily while Cameron recounts a story from Tokyo, screaming it over the music. They move closer together, and when Donna turns down the music and they collapse into the couch and talk into the wee hours of the night.

 

Cameron shifts her head into Donna’s lap, yawning, “I never told you.”

 

“What?” Donna runs her fingers through Cameron’s locks.

 

“You’re the only person who’s ever finished Pilgrim.”

 

Donna shifts beneath her, a little shocked. She knew she’d been one of the few, and that it had meant a lot to Cameron, but she hadn’t realized she’d been the only.

 

“I mean, to be fair, Gordon never got to try it, but…” Cameron licks her lips, and for some reason Donna’s eyes are drawn to them, “sometimes I think I made that game just for you.”

 

Her eyes drift everywhere, avoiding Donna’s, but Donna just stares gently down at Cameron’s face.

 

“You and I… we were the same kind of lost.”

 

Cameron shifts to look up at her, and Donna bites her lip.

 

“When I finished that game… that was the first bit of relief I’d had in a long time. I… I had felt so alone.”

 

Donna smiles, sniffles, and when did the tears get there?

 

“I felt closer to you. And it helped.”

 

Donna looks up, unable to stare down at Cameron anymore, and Cameron reaches over to take her hand, squeezing it lightly.

 

“I’m glad.”

 

                  - - - - -

 

She wakes to the sound of a key turning in a lock. Whoever it is struggles for a while, and Donna smiles sleepily, recognizing her daughter at the door.

 

She shifts a little and finds something solid and heavy holding her down. She’d fallen asleep on the couch, stretched out on her back with her head on the armrest. Cameron snoozes soundly against her abdomen, body between Donna’s legs, face curled into the spot just under Donna’s breasts. Donna’s hand, when she moves it, graces the warm skin of Cameron’s back.

 

And suddenly, it occurs to Donna what this looks like. She startles awake, just in time for Haley to finally figure out the lock.

 

“Mom?”

 

Cameron shifts on top of her, hand falling to Donna’s armpit, and there’s nothing Donna can do about what this looks like, is there?

 

There’s a question playing out on Haley’s face, and Donna moves to sit up, forcing Cameron awake. “Morning, sweetheart. How was Natalie’s?”

 

Cameron lifts herself a bit, blinking awake.

 

“It was good.” Is all Haley says, her stare still directed at them.

 

“Morning, squirt.” Is all Cameron says, and Donna pushes her up and off her body, eyes rolling playfully when Cameron gives her a flirty smile.

 

Haley’s finally broken from her trance, smiling at them.

 

“Why don’t you go and put your stuff down in your bedroom and I’ll make us some breakfast? How does that sound, sweetheart?” Cameron is untangling their legs, and Donna struggles to keep her gaze level with her daughter’s.

 

“Okay....”

 

            Haley leaves, and Cameron starts to laugh. “You made that so much worse than you needed to, oh my god.” Donna holds back a laugh herself.

 

“Shut up.” Donna stands, straightening her hair with her fingers and quickly making her way to the kitchen.

 

“Maybe it’ll give you some cred. Finally make you the cool mom she’s always wanted.”

 

“ _Cameron_.”

 

“If she didn’t think there was something between us before, she definitely thinks there is now.”

 

“There isn’t anything between us.”

 

Cameron comes up behind Donna as she considers the pans, grabbing the eggs from the fridge before Donna can think to. Donna cracks eggs with shaky hands, and Cameron watches her.

 

“Then why are you acting like this?” And she can’t tell if Cameron means it as a joke or not so she turns to look up at her, but before she can find anything in her eyes, Haley returns.

 

“So what are we having?”

 

                  - - - - -

 

They pick up Joanie at the airport, which is all an all a joyous and tearful affair. When they get home, Joanie unpacks with Haley in her room and Cameron and Donna watch from the doorway, warmed by the way Joanie handles her sister.

 

They have dinner outside on the patio. Joanie introduces them to a great dish she’d learned to make in Bolivia, and Donna can see the way Cameron struggles to eat it with a smile on her face. Haley catches up Joanie on some gossip from their high school and lights up when Joanie tells her about this kickass girl she met in Spain, who’d reminded her a bunch of Haley, but like, older.

 

Eventually the girls go into Haley’s room to catch up and leave Cameron and Donna to clean up. When they’re done Cameron starts setting up sheets on the couch. “You know, Haley’s probably gonna stay in there with Joanie. You could take her bed.”

 

“I’m good out here. No worries.”

 

And some part of Donna wants to offer Cameron her bed. It’s big enough.

 

She leaves so she can’t act on the impulse.

 

She takes a long shower, really letting the water run through her hair. Something about having Joanie home has left her warm and content, and the shower she takes only further intensifies that, the relaxation it brings seeping into her bones.

 

She dries herself slowly, wrapping herself in the towel and taking another for her hair. She exits her bathroom, wandering back into her bedroom and absentmindedly looking at the painting on her wall as she dries her hair.

 

“It’s beautiful.” She turns to see Cameron standing in the door.

 

Some part of her feels like she should want to cover herself—she’s only wearing a towel—but she doesn’t move to, instead just staring softly at Cameron, wondering why she’s come.

 

Donna sees Cameron’s eyes drop to what she’s wearing and her stomach flips a little, but she still doesn’t move. Cameron, realizing herself, snaps her gaze back up to meet Donna’s, before blinking and being unable to meet her eyes.

 

“I just… came to say goodnight.”

 

“Oh… Goodnight.” Is all Donna can say, and Cameron smiles her fake smile before returning the sentiment and turning to head back down the hall. Donna sits on her bed and stays there a while, wondering.

 

                  - - - - -

 

The next morning, Donna, Joanie, and Haley all have breakfast together. It’s the first full house Donna’s had in a while and something about it feels so _right_.

 

Still, the conversation does devolve into a small argument between Donna and Joanie (“I’m just saying, that wouldn’t have happened if you’d kept a good eye on your belongings like I told you to…” “It already happened, mom. I can’t take it back.”), and Haley seems to get especially quiet when Donna asks her not-so-subtle questions about Natalie. Eventually, Haley complains about not being able to find something in her room and drags Donna over there to look.

 

As Donna walks away, she hears Joanie ask Cameron: “So what is this I’m hearing about you sleeping with my mom?”

 

She hears Cameron’s nervous laugh as she rounds the corner to the bedroom, and spends the rest of the day wondering what Cameron might’ve said in response.

 

                  - - - - -

 

Cameron invites her out to the airstream for the weekend.

 

Haley and Joanie are off at a music festival in Berkeley, staying with some of Joanie’s friends, and Bos and Diane are going away to Texas for the week, visiting Bos’ grandson.

 

It’s just Cameron and Donna.

 

Cameron loves her shack in the woods. She can think there, she says. She can breathe there. And they could hike—she can’t believe she’s never gotten Donna to go out there and hike with her before.

 

What she doesn’t say, and what they’re both ignoring, is the other implication. And how long has it been since anyone invited Donna anywhere, just the two of them?

 

She tries to put out of her mind the obvious question: where would she sleep? Her brain lingers on it for days after Cameron asks, wondering if Cameron knows just _what_ she’s asked. If she’s ready for the consequences of a choice like that. If Donna is.

 

(She doesn’t know when her mind finally clued into the fact that they were circling each other like this, but now that she’s aware, she thinks it might’ve started the first day they’d met.)

 

(Was Cameron ready to bring it out into the open?)

 

(Was Donna?)

 

Donna says yes, of course. She says it immediately, before any of these things can occur to her, and that’s how she finds herself in Cameron’s truck on a Saturday morning, taking the long winding roads out to Bonny Doon.

 

They drive in near silence. Donna wonders to herself if this is always how it is before taking a big leap. They both know it’s coming. The silence is preparing.

 

They park and take Donna’s things into the airstream. Cameron quietly tidies up and Donna goes silent, mind suddenly picturing the two of them out here for months on end, doing unspeakable things behind closed doors…

 

“We should go for that hike.” Donna nods, following Cameron out of the airstream.

 

They climb a hill for nearly 2 hours before they can see the ocean Cameron promised on the other side. As soon as they climb down the cliffs onto the beach, Cameron kicks off her shoes and takes off running, Donna running after her, both of them laughing. The beach is terribly overcast and empty, but it’s perfect.

 

They encounter another dune. Cameron runs up the side of it, not stopping until they’re at the top of another cliff, staring over the water. Donna stops beside her, breathing hard.

 

Suddenly, their eyes meet. They laugh and laugh and Donna braces herself on Cameron’s arm, struggling to breathe from the running and the laughter. When she’s finally able to calm down, she lifts her head to say something to Cameron and finds Cameron’s already looking at her.

 

They stay like that for a while, Donna’s arm on Cameron’s, lost in each other’s eyes.

 

Donna feels Cameron’s hand come up to cup her cheek. Cameron’s hand is shaking, and so are Donna’s, and she would trade every look Cameron’s ever given her for the one she’s giving her now. Tears in her eyes, she tries to commit this to memory. Everything’s about to change.

 

Embarrassingly, Donna lets a tear fall, but before she can think about it, Cameron’s closing the distance between them.

 

And it feels like flying.

 

                   - - - - -

 

Donna stands in the center of the airstream, dressed in only a big shirt and her underwear, legs newly shaved. Through the window, she can see Cameron outside disposing of the trash.

 

She turns to take in her surroundings: beer cans on the table, her bag and clothes neatly on the built-in seat. Through a door she can see the bed she’ll sleep in. Where they’ll both sleep.

 

They haven’t talked about it yet.

 

Cameron enters the airstream again, moving around Donna to wash her hands. Donna busies herself removing her make up. Neither says anything.

 

Cameron sheds her clothes, quickly pulling new ones on. Donna still says nothing.

 

Cameron flips the light on in the bedroom. She wanders in, turning back to look at Donna. She reaches a hand back and Donna takes it.

 

And they stand there.

 

“God. This is so weird,” is how Cameron chooses to break the silence.

 

Donna matches her gaze. “No, it’s not.”

 

“It’s not?”

 

“It’s awkward. It’s not weird.” Cameron cracks and smile that makes Donna smile.

 

“I’ve just… I’ve wanted this for a long time—“

 

“—me too” Donna starts to cut her off, but Cam continues: “—I just want it to be perfect. Everything, you know.”

 

Donna squeezes her hand, moving closer to wrap an arm around her waist.

 

“It is perfect.” She says, climbing into the bed and pulling Cameron along with her. She pulls Cameron on top of her, faces close enough that Cameron’s hair brushes Donna’s cheek.

 

“It’s us.”


	4. We Belong

Donna wakes to sunlight warming her face. She winces slightly, flipping her head over and finding herself suddenly nose-deep in a mass of brown hair. She shifts again, now somewhat aware of her unfamiliar surroundings, before inhaling sharply and letting her toes stretch against Cameron’s legs.

 

Cameron.

 

Donna blinks her eyes open, now confronted with the source of the enchanting smell she’d just buried her nose into. Cameron’s hair smells like bay leaves and the beach, and Donna just wants to drown in it.

 

This still being slightly new to her, she isn’t exactly sure how to proceed, but decides that even if Cameron is a grump about her wanting morning cuddles, she’ll just have to deal.

 

Donna pushes up on her elbow, half on top of Cameron as she looks her over. Cameron is always so peaceful when she sleeps, never bothered by bad dreams like Donna is. Since she’s not a mother (and likely never will be, with where this going), Cameron never developed that light-sleeper trait that every parent eventually gets, and Donna delights in the ability to surprise her.

 

She leans in cautiously, nosing the side of Cameron’s face before leaning in to give her a small peck on the lips.

 

“Good morning.” She says, before letting herself settle against Cameron’s collarbone, head underneath Cameron’s chin. She feels Cameron inhale more than she hears it, and when Cam’s hand comes up to caress the small of her back, she finally chances a look up.

 

Cameron gives her a sleepy smile, leaning down to kiss the top of her head.

 

“Morning.”

 

Cameron’s hand walks itself up her back to the nape of her neck, running over the hair there and making Donna close her eyes, lost in pleasure. She feels Cameron shift beneath her, moving them so that she and Donna are nose to nose. When Donna opens her eyes, Cameron is right there staring back at her.

 

“God, I am so glad this wasn’t a dream.” Cameron moves closer as she says this, now so close that Donna has trouble focusing on her face. She feels Cameron move forward into her space, capturing her lips again. Donna smiles into the contact, rolling over so that Cameron can crawl onto her again. God, how incredible was it to have someone take charge properly?

(She has a brief flash of a memory of coaxing Gordon into climbing on top of her, but she pushes it out of her mind as quickly as she can, focusing on the feeling of Cameron’s tongue.)

 

They go at it for a while, making out, ruining the sheets (she could only imagine how hard it was to make this bed), before the loud sound of Cameron’s stomach rumbling interrupts them.

 

Cameron laughs, sitting up, and Donna sits up too. Cam laces their fingers.

 

“Let me make you some cheese egg, how does that sound?”

 

Donna raises an eyebrow: “Cheese egg?”

 

\- - -   - - -   - - -

 

They spend the whole day in the airstream, not really getting out of bed but not really doing much in it either. They doze in and out of consciousness, wrapped in each other, before it’s suddenly 4pm and it occurs to Donna that the girls will be back in Palo Alto soon.

 

Donna has to drag Cameron out of bed. She packs Cameron’s belongings into a bag for her and loads their stuff in the trunk.

 

“Did you just pack for me?”

 

“I do it for the girls all the time. Come on, Cameron.”

 

“I… am not one of your daughters.”

 

“You sure?” Donna gives Cameron a playful smirk, closing the car door and looking back out at the airstream.

 

“Dude. That’s a fucked up joke.”

 

Donna ignores her comment in favor of the scenery.

 

“It really is beautiful out here.”

 

Cameron finishes buckling her seatbelt, and Donna can feel her eyes burning into the side of her face as she fixates on the mass of land surrounding them.

 

“Joe wanted to build a house here. For our theoretical kids.” Cameron turns the key, putting the truck into gear.

 

“Hmm…”

They pull away from the airstream, but not before Donna’s mind can skip several years forward in their theoretical relationship, imagining the two of them curled up in a cabin together on the hillside.

 

_We could build a house here. For our real kids._

                  - - - - -

They drive home listening to the sounds of the road. Cameron changes the radio to some weird grunge station that Donna isn’t even really listening to, because somehow it’s only now occurring to her how massive what happened between last night and this morning is. Just yesterday Donna had sat in this car, terrified of what might come from all of this.

 

This morning… she’s still terrified, if she’s being honest.

 

The airstream was nice. A perfect place for something like this to have happened. Really, the perfect safe space for both of them to be able to be truly honest with each other. They could be whoever they wanted to be, without judgment from anyone else.  

 

And she knew in her heart that everything they’d done, the way their relationship had shifted… it was the right thing. It was what she’d always wanted. She had no regrets.

 

But now the rest of the world was out there.

 

As though clued in to Donna’s thoughts, Cameron reaches over and takes her hand, squeezing. Donna offers her a small smile.

 

How would they explain this?

 

                  - - - - -

 

            They get home a few hours before Joanie and Haley, Donna taking the time to tidy up and unpack their things. She debates clearing out a drawer in her bedroom for Cameron, but then stops herself from considering it further, deciding it’s too early.

 

            Is it too early? They haven’t talked about this.

 

            Cameron chooses this moment of all the moments to get super inspired, retreating to Donna’s study (their study, honestly, it’s been almost a year since she wasn’t at least partially sharing it with Cam) to type out some new function that had occurred to her on the way home.

 

            And if that doesn’t exemplify how different they are, nothing does. Donna spent the drive home worried about what people might think of them, together. Cameron has never cared.

 

            Cameron would think everything she’s worried about is stupid. And maybe it is a little stupid, to care this much about what this relationship looks like to others. But she does. And she can’t really help it.

 

            She stress cleans the stove.

 

            Haley and Joanie come home and immediately retreat to Joanie’s room, blasting some cassette they’d purchased in Berkeley and not bothering to ask Donna about her weekend, which is perfectly okay with Donna.

 

            She doesn’t know what to do with all this excess frantic energy. She has so many questions for Cameron—what are the rules here: do they sleep next to each other? Do they kiss in public? Are they telling the girls sooner, or later? What are they even calling this… _relationship_?

 

Donna’s never felt this way about a woman before. And she’s not… gay. She just likes Cameron. Cameron’s the exception, not the rule. Honestly, Cameron’s like, especially boyish. She’s probably manlier than Gordon ever was. Or, at least, she has bigger—

 

Donna makes herself laugh a little, and that’s when Haley wanders into the kitchen, pulling out some string cheese.

 

“What’s so funny?”

 

“Nothing. I was just… thinking about something.”

 

“…okay.”

 

Cameron appears in the doorway. It’s the first time Donna’s seen her in an hour and for some reason her heart literally decides to skip a beat, catching her off guard. Cameron regards her with a strange look before beginning a path in her direction.

 

She wonders if Haley’s presence is as burned into Cameron’s consciousness as it is into hers, and her heart is in her throat when Cameron enters her physical space…

 

… and brushes past her, taking a packet of string cheese out of Haley’s hands.

 

“Hey squirt, how are you?”

 

The two of them chat as though things are totally normal as Donna works to slow her heart rate to an acceptable level. She turns away from them, face burning with embarrassment.

 

She can’t do this. She’s gonna need a glass of wine, immediately.

 

She wanders over to browse the wine rack, and just as she finally lands on her bottle for the night, Cameron comes over, hand coming up to lightly touch her shoulder (very platonically, Donna’s mind adds unnecessarily).

 

“Why don’t we save the wine for later? I want to show you something.”

 

Donna looks up at Cameron, reading between the lines of what she’s said and rolling her eyes—she knows how to control her impulses, okay? She’s good now. She can have wine and be fine.

 

Instead, in Cameron’s eyes, she only finds a soft, fond look accompanied by a smile. Cameron starts down the hall toward the study, somehow knowing that Donna would follow her anywhere.

 

And Donna leaves the wine behind.

 

                  - - - - - 

They never really get to talking about it. Months pass, and Cameron and Donna somehow agree to not tell anyone about whatever this is between them without ever explicitly agreeing to.

 

The relationship, whatever it is, works better than Donna could’ve ever imagined. At the beginning, Donna spent every moment wondering if what they had would break and leave her as depressed as she’d been just before they’d become friends again. But adding this emotional (and _sexual_ ) layer to whatever they had only increased the amount that they trusted each other.

 

They’d secured funding (from Symphonic Ventures, of course) for Phoenix. And now, with a handful of young engineers, they were heading the lead company in the online banking space. And that was exciting. It was always exciting to be on top. But that excitement didn’t compare to getting to work with Cameron everyday. Cameron, now ten years older than she’d been at Mutiny, was a powerhouse to work with. And Donna, it turned out, was her muse.

 

(“That makes so much sense,” Cameron tells her one late night, curled up in Donna’s king size bed long after the girls have gone to bed, “so many of my best ideas have been inspired by you.” Donna kisses her.)

 

(And even later: “You sure I’m not just a parasite?”)

 

(Cameron’s sure.)

 

Cameron felt like a true partner, in every sense of the word. Donna delights in introducing her that way, because it feels like the best way to describe her. Haley opts for “girlfriend” with Natalie (she tells Donna and Cameron near the end of August, and Donna’s never been prouder of her, honestly) but something about that word just feels wrong on Donna’s lips. Gordon was her first partner. Cameron is her best partner. It’s all-or-nothing with Donna, apparently.

 

She wouldn’t have it any other way.

 

\- - - - -

 

One night, they’re home alone together (Joanie’s out somewhere in San Francisco with that guy Otto from Germany, Haley at a Star Trek marathon at Natalie’s place) and Cameron makes Donna some very authentic ramen. After tasting some of the broth (it’s delicious), Donna wanders over to the cassette player, popping in an old cassette.

 

Cameron is bringing them two bowls of ramen to eat at the coffee table when We Belong starts to play. Donna starts to bob along, oddly comforted by it.

 

“You would love old songs like this one.”

 

Donna smiles, “this was the song I was singing to when I got my DUI.”

 

“You got a DUI?” Cameron feigns surprise and Donna scoffs, rolling her eyes.

 

Cameron laughs. Donna smiles as she dances, losing herself in the song.

 

Donna begins to sing along, standing and taking Cameron’s hands. Cameron stands with her, but mostly just sways awkwardly beside her as Donna moves Cameron’s arms, emotionally swept up in the song.

 

            “You really like this song, don’t you?” Donna doesn’t answer, pulling Cameron in closer and swaying against her body.

 

            “I heard an interview with the songwriters recently,” Donna says as the song fades out, “they were good friends… until they weren’t. One kicked the other out of the band.” Donna can feel Cameron smiling against her cheek, “and then one day the guy who kicked his friend out of the band invited him back to try writing another song together, even though they were both still mad… and that’s when they wrote We Belong, which became—”

 

            Cameron cuts in before she can finish, “—the best song they ever wrote.”

 

            “Yup.”

 

            They sway together a little longer before Cameron pulls back from the embrace, bringing them forehead-to-forehead.

 

            “You’re cheesy, you know that?”

 

            “Mhmm.”

 

            “I love you.” Cameron says.

           

            And that’s the first time. Donna sputters, a little surprised, before inhaling and saying (in a voice much higher than she ever intended), “I love you too.”

 

            And Cameron leans in and kisses her.

 

            (Donna was supposed to say it first. She had been thinking about this for _months_. God, this is what she gets for dating someone as strange and ridiculous and amazing and _unpredictable_ as—)

 

            “ _Cameron!_ ” Donna shouts as Cameron lifts her, spinning.

 

            What a ridiculous dork she _loves_. And wow, how much she loves her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the overwhelming response!! I'm so glad it's being well received and so excited to share more with you. 
> 
>  
> 
> P.S. I wish I made up the story behind We Belong, but I did not. With every thread of the 4th season I unravel I realize these writers knew exactly what they were doing.


	5. Hide And Seek

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter became a monster chapter (I just have so much I want to say, okay?) and now it is three chapters instead.
> 
> This one is just... sad. Sweet sad. But sad. 
> 
> (And don't worry, the next one is actually sad sad--you didn't think this whole story was gonna be rainbows and butterflies, did you?) 
> 
> Let's say goodbye to Gordon all over again. What do you say?

            It’s like September ends and the household sucks in a collective breath, holding it all in.

 

            Donna and Cameron both take on more at work, and find themselves at home considerably less. For the first time since they’ve been together, they go a week without sleeping together (mostly due to alternating all-nighters) and it feels _awful._

 

            Haley doesn’t leave her room for anything but school. When she gets home, she returns to her room, shutting herself in and picking at the dinner Donna brings her. She practically sleeps still listening to her cassette player.

 

            Joanie gets antsy. Cameron manages to talk her out of leaving the country, and tries to get her to stay committed to her dream of getting into NYU for documentary filmmaking. Under Cameron’s careful guidance (and very little guidance from Donna, something Cameron insists on) Joanie stays, occasionally even attending her classes at the local community college, Foothill.

 

            The night before the anniversary of Gordon’s death, the house is quiet. Joanie, usually the social one, has retreated to her bedroom. Haley’s out somewhere – likely at Natalie’s – so it’s really just Cameron and Donna again.

 

            Donna’s brain doesn’t initially register this night as significant. It’s the night before a night, after all. But in later years, Donna finds herself replaying the events of this night over and over: it becomes a defining night for the family. Cameron included.

 

            Initially, Donna has no idea where Cameron’s disappeared to. Just minutes ago, she was in the kitchen watching Donna make them soup, but then she wandered away…

 

            She finds Cameron in Haley’s room.

 

            Cameron wears Haley’s cassette player, holding the box gingerly, like she might break it if she isn’t careful. The look on her face, is, in one word: shattered. Seeing Donna, it seems, turns tears into full-blown sobs. And just like that, Donna is at her side, holding her hands.

 

            “Cameron? What is it?”

 

            She runs a hand through Cameron’s hair, caressing her cheek, and Cameron smiles sadly at her, sniffling. She starts to try to speak, unable to get the right words out. Instead, she removes the headphones, placing them over Donna’s ears.

 

            _Anything feel weird?_

_…_

_…_

_…_

            Hearing the sound of Gordon’s voice shakes her to her core.

 

            _That’s what this is. Feeling weird is … how you know you’re still here._

 

            It’s the last thing she expected. Her eyes flicker up to Cameron’s, suddenly understanding. That Haley went to sleep every night listening to this (and that she hadn’t told them) feels suddenly and immensely overwhelming to Donna. She looks down at her hands on the bed, clutching the covers.

 

            Cameron moves her hands to cover Donna’s.

 

            _When was the last time you ate?_

 

            _Cuz all a human needs is food, water, and… rest._

            Cameron reaches up to touch Donna’s face, wiping at tears Donna wasn’t aware she was shedding.

 

            _Remind yourself that you’re just 160 pounds of goo—_

 

            And then suddenly, Haley’s in the doorway, wearing an expression that makes Donna feel like she’s destroyed her. Before she can think, Haley’s tearing the tape player out of her hands.

           

            “Get _out_.”

           

            Donna stands, stepping back into Cameron, who must’ve stood up at some point. Donna stills, shocked.

 

            “ _GET OUT_.”

 

           Cameron’s hands go to Donna’s shoulders, guiding her out of the room.

 

            Haley slams the door in her face.

 

-     -   -

 

            They let her calm down a while before approaching the door again. Donna tries first, knocking and asking if she can come in. When she doesn’t get an answer, she tries the door. It’s locked.

 

            She looks to Cameron, unsure. Cameron steps closer, speaking into the door:

            “Haley. It’s me. I’m the one who invaded your bedroom and found the tape.” She pauses, deliberately not meeting Donna’s eyes, “I want to come in and apologize. Will you let me?”

 

            There’s no answer. Cameron steps away from the door, finally meeting Donna’s eyes, before the door opens and they both take another step back. Haley stands in front of them, tearful but stubborn and stoic and doing her best to disguise the hurt in her eyes. She is every bit Donna’s daughter, and Donna’s heart aches for her.

 

            Cameron steps through the threshold and Donna moves to follow her, but Haley stops her with a hand: “Just Cameron.”

 

            Of course. “Sure. I’ll… be in the kitchen.”

 

            The door shuts again. Donna stands in the hallway, a little lost. She starts to walk away, but then stops…

 

           She turns back toward the door, letting herself fall to the ground in front of it, too exhausted not to cry. Defeated tears fall; thoughts of how Gordon might’ve handled this, how she wishes he were here, how he was the best father these girls could’ve ever had—

 

            “—was just walking by your bedroom and saw it and… I don’t know what possessed me.”

 

Donna hears the muffled tenor of Cameron’s voice and stills. She hadn’t realized she’d be able to hear the conversation.

 

            “How long have you had that?”

 

            No one speaks for a second, and Donna hears sniffling.

 

            “Since he died. He used to listen to it every day. Now I do.”

 

            “Can I?” She hears movement, and her mind imagines Cameron sitting on the bed.

 

            “I’m glad you have this,” Cameron says, “and I’m sorry I ruined something that was special to you.”

 

            Donna smiles. Many a person had compared Cameron and Joanie—the resemblance in attitude and personality were unmistakable—but Donna privately finds herself thinking that Cameron and Haley might be even more similar. This level of human interaction, this level of _trying to connect_ _with someone_ , is hard for Cameron. It’s hard for Haley, too.

 

            “It’s okay.” Haley sniffles, “Dad ruined a lot of things.”

           

            “He did. But he always cared about you.” A long silence, and then: “Gordon… was one of the best friends I ever had. Before he died, we spent one late night at the Mutiny office--”

 

            Haley laughs, “Comet”

 

            “Comet was your baby. Mutiny was mine. I’ll call it what I want.”

 

            “I mean, technically isn’t it Phoenix now?”

 

            Cameron laughs, “Now don’t get technical with me. Anyway—“

 

            “You and Dad were at the office.”

 

            “Right. We were playing Doom. I was frustrated and angry that Pilgrim wasn’t going as planned. We talked about being divorced, and then moved to talking about Joe—that’s where he mentioned you. And he said that he wanted Joe to take Comet and make it without either of you involved.”

 

            Donna’s memory takes her back—she hadn’t even been aware Gordon had ever hesitated in building Comet with Haley. She missed so much.

 

            “He said that Joanie accused him of shutting it down because he was jealous of you. And he kind of was. He was jealous of how much time you have. He kept saying that he missed being a kid and was worried he’d spent his time in all the wrong ways. I told him I couldn’t think of a better way to spend his time than to spend it with you, building something you loved.”

 

            She hears shifting on the bed.

 

            “And I told him he didn’t have to worry about you ending up like me—you had two awesome parents. I had no one.”

 

            “Why wouldn’t we want to end up like you?”

 

            Donna wishes, not for the first time, that she could see Cameron’s face.

 

            “… that’s what Gordon said. He said he’d be proud, if you ended up like me.”

 

            Neither of them says anything for quite a while. Donna wipes at her eyes and debates standing up when—

 

            “I didn’t have a dad to say stuff like that to me.”

 

            “Then I’m glad you borrowed mine.”

 

            Donna smiles wide, eyes brimming with tears.

 

            “I love you.”

 

            “I love you too, squirt.”

 

            Donna leans back into the door, resting her forehead against it and letting the tears flow freely. Gordon was gone. Her family was broken. But at least the universe still cared enough to bring them Cameron.

 

-     -   -

 

           

            Donna has been lying in bed for three hours when she feels Cameron slip in beside her.

 

            Sleep has not come. It may never, at this point.

 

            Cameron seems to know that, pulling Donna into her arms despite her general aversion to cuddling at night. She doesn’t speak, and that’s what Donna needs.

 

            Maybe neither of them will sleep. Maybe that’s what this means.

 

            She lets Cameron hold her in a warm embrace, pressing small kisses to the back of her neck and tangling their legs together. She tries not to think about her dead husband, or her kids, or the way she held them all night on this day last year. She tries not to think of the happiness she feels at the way her world has changed since, or of the guilt that eats at her for feeling that happiness. She tries to shut her eyes, hide away. She can’t.

 

            Her parent-brain jumps at a creak in the door, and she opens her eyes to darkened figures, clearly her daughters _,_ climbing into the bed with them. If either girl is surprised to find Cameron in there with Donna, neither shows it. Joanie finds a way to squish herself between them while Haley curls into Donna’s chest. Donna holds her tight, thankful for someone else to focus her energy on.

 

           The four of them stay like that until Donna sees sunlight.

 

           They never speak about it.

-     -   -

 

           

            A month later, Haley gets a letter from Joe. She doesn’t share the exact contents, but mentions he’s coming to town on the 16th, and would they be open to having him over for dinner?

 

            She, of course, mentions this over dinner just two days before Joe’s arrival. Donna finds herself unable to even look over at Cameron for her reaction, instead muttering a quick, “up to Cameron” and standing to grab something from the stove.

 

            Cameron, for her part, maintains an air of neutrality with regards to the whole idea. Donna doesn’t look back at the table, but she can imagine Cameron’s exact blank-but-stubborn expression in response to the question at hand:

 

            “I don’t see why not.”


	6. Words (Don't Come Easy)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might be one of my favorite chapters. I've always felt like Halt should've given Donna and Joe more screentime together, and this chapter hits on some things I wish had been addressed. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do. 
> 
> I'm hard at work on the last chapter, and I must say, I'm not sure how to leave this world behind. Feeling a little sad already. 
> 
> Also, speaking of sad: I'm sorry. 
> 
> Enjoy!

          When Joe arrives, he brings gifts: a new CD player for Joanie, a large green sweater reminiscent of Gordon’s for Haley. Haley jumps to hug him and even Joanie, not quick to excitement, cracks a genuine smile at his arrival.

 

          Donna, watching him greet her daughters, is both glad to see him in the flesh and at the same time oddly threatened by his presence: Joe’s spontaneous arrival has never meant any good news for her, personally—he’s always managed to suck Gordon or Cameron into his next big thing, leaving her by the wayside. With Joe it was always the next big project, the next big idea… so it was only natural that, upon his arrival, Donna seemed to be waiting for the other shoe to drop.

 

           Why was he here? To show them some new thing he was interested in? To talk to Donna about getting funding? To recruit Haley to join him in his new venture?

 

           Or was he here for Cameron?

 

           Cameron, who greets him with a warm hug and a smile that reaches her eyes.

 

           She knew Cameron was different now. She knew that it wouldn’t be the same. Cameron was loyal and committed to her and logically, there was no good reason for Donna to feel as oddly threatened as she did. But then, she couldn’t really help it. All Joe had ever done was take and take and take. The idea that he might take Cameron back from her—that this happiness they had together could be so easily over—was something Donna couldn’t shake…

 

 

            …but then again, this Joe is unlike the one she knew all those years ago.

 

            This Joe eats slowly, listens carefully, smiles and laughs through Joanie’s anecdotes about South America, calmly scrolls through Haley’s new site, listening diligently to her process. This Joe smiles kindly, doesn’t interrupt. He asks questions because he wants to hear the answers, and smiles fondly at her girls as though they were his own. She’d seen pieces of this Joe after Gordon’s death, but had attributed it not to growth in character, but to grief.

 

            She remembers that night—the night Gordon died—when Joe raced to confront her on her doorstep, sure she that she had ulterior motives for giving Gordon information.

           

            (…she forgot now what that information was. But maybe what the information itself was never really mattered).

 

            How sure he’d been that she was coming for them, that she was some boogeyman to fear.

 

            She’d feared him just as much. And now it all felt silly.

 

            They’d been on opposite ends of this weird eight-person family for so long, and now, watching Joe with Haley, she couldn’t see why anymore.

 

            Cameron, not at all affected by Donna’s apprehension (and when was she?), seems to appreciate getting to see Joe. She laughs along with him easily, asking him questions about his new life and new job. That being said, now, after dinner, instead of hanging out and going through the website with Haley and Joe on the other side of the room, she’s washing dishes in the kitchen with Donna. And Donna’s attention isn’t even on her—Donna watches Joe and Haley, mind barely focused on the task at hand. She can feel Cameron working around her, stepping in and out of her space like she owns it, trying to capture her attention.

 

            She knows Cameron can feel some type of emotion coming off of her in waves, even if she doesn’t understand what it is. Donna isn’t surprised when Cameron reaches out to grab her hand, squeezing it.

 

            They watch Haley and Joe together from the kitchen, hands concealed by the countertop. Cameron rubs the back of Donna’s hand with her thumb, “He cares about her more than he cares about anything else in the world.”

 

            It’s true. And even if she doubted it, it’s confirmed by the pride in his eyes. They’d built a true family for their kids, she and Gordon, and it’s not the first time she’s been overwhelmed by the realization. She bites her lip, eyes flitting down to her feet; suddenly guilty for thinking Joe could be here for any other reason.

 

            She knows why he’s come now.

 

            Family.

 

-     -   -

 

            After Haley goes to bed (it is, after all, a school night) and Joanie takes off to some late-night college party (“Let her have her fun” is what Joe says to Donna’s protests), Donna, Cameron, and Joe hang out in the living room, reminiscing.

 

            “And do you remember his ridiculous mustache?” Cameron says, laughing. She sits beside Donna, her arm draped behind her on the couch.

 

            “I happened to _adore_ that mustache, thank you very much.” Donna tells her, punctuating it with a sip of whiskey.

 

            “ _Really?_ ” And the incredulous look should offend her, maybe, but instead she just finds it adorable.

 

            “In my experience, mustaches can be on the itchy side.” Joe says, and it’s a vague and indirect confirmation of something Donna remembers Gordon mentioning off-handedly once, clearly uncomfortable with it. She wonders, briefly, what Gordon would think of who she’s become now: this woman whose fingers ache to reach out and rub another woman’s knee affectionately; whose hands ache to hold her partners’ in public—

 

            She cuts that thought off before it can progress any further.

 

            “I just loved how it looked when he smiled. I don’t know. It’s what he had when we met.” And Donna must look emotional, or something, because Cameron chooses that moment to give her shoulder a little squeeze.

 

            Donna levels her gaze with Cameron’s, finding Cameron’s eyes still on her, lost in some kind of emotion. Before she can dissect what exactly, Cameron catches herself. She pulls away and stands.

 

            “I have to go to the bathroom.” Is all Cameron says. She offers Joe a quick and awkward smile, immediately turning to head down the hall. Donna watches her go, wondering what prompted her quick escape. She bites her lip, setting her glass down.

 

            “Can I get you another?” She eyes Joe’s empty glass.

 

            “Yes please.”

 

            She goes back to the counter, pouring out another two glasses.

 

            “I’m glad to see you so happy together.”

 

            Donna’s hand shakes, and a small drop of liquid runs down the rim of the glass. She calms herself quickly, setting down the bottle and picking up the glasses.

 

            “I’m sorry—you’re not telling people, are you?” Joe says as Donna hands him her glass.

 

            Donna doesn’t know what to say. She’s caught completely off-guard.

 

            “… is it obvious?” It’s the closest to an admission she can manage and even that increases her heart rate. Joe just smiles fondly, shaking his head and looking at the floor.

 

            “She’s comfortable in your home, Donna. Comfortable with you. She mentioned she hadn’t been to the airstream in a month. You only have four bedrooms and one is the office Cameron took me into earlier—it’s not hard to imagine where she sleeps.”

 

            Donna’s face must be bright red. She almost moves to cover it, but the pensive expression on Joe’s face stops her.

 

            “I know what she looks like when she loves someone, Donna. So, is it obvious? I don’t know. But it’s obvious to me.”

 

            Donna, still reeling from Joe’s insistence that Cameron _loves her_ , drops her eyes to her glass.

 

            “I’m sorry—I’m pressing you.”

 

            “… No. No, it’s just… you’re the first person I’ve discussed this with.”

 

            “Ever?”

 

            “Ever.”

 

            Joe’s eyes hold in them so much empathy, so much pity… Donna isn’t able to look into them without tearing up a little.

 

            “Well, I’m always here. Please call me. I… I know how hard it can be.”

 

            Donna nods, holding back tears.

 

            “Do you have someone?” She asks, before she can stop herself.

 

            “Yes. Yes I do.”

 

            “Do they make you happy?”

 

            Joe pauses, then states easily: “He does.”

 

            Donna meets his eyes through tears. “I’m happy for you, Joe.”

 

            “I’m happy for you, too.”

           

-     -   -

 

            Thanksgiving arrives, and Bos and Diane host them over at their house. A long day of planning and prepping stretches into a night of board games and long conversations. While Haley, Diane, and Donna try their hand at Uno!, Cameron and Bos disappear into the garage.

 

            They end up concluding a game of Risk somewhere around midnight. Donna doesn’t think much of going into the garage to gather Cameron but she clearly interrupts their conversation at some key moment, because both Cam and Bos seem completely disoriented by her arrival.

 

            “We’re heading home,” Donna tells them. Bos is looking at her some odd way and Cameron seems to be deliberately trying to maintain eye contact, as though to keep her from looking at Bos.

 

            “Great. I’ll catch up with you.” Cameron says. She smiles that stiff smile and Donna’s mind briefly flashes back to years ago, when she couldn’t get Cameron to come with her to Diane’s Sonoma house. She frowns.

 

            “I’ll drive her home.” Bos adds.

Donna looks between them. God, what has she interrupted?

 

            “Great.” Donna says, still confused. She walks over to Bos, offering him a hug. “Thank you so much for having us.” He gives her a quick and short goodbye, and thoughtless hug that is unlike any other she’s ever received from him. She pulls away, stopping to look between them again. Then, she starts toward the door, deciding she can’t deal with whatever this is right now.

 

            Some instinct within her wants to physically acknowledge Cameron in some way as she’s leaving, but she can’t kiss her in front of Bos and a hug seems ridiculous.

 

            She settles on a smile that Cameron returns, albeit halfheartedly. The expression on Cameron’s face—there aren’t really words for what it is, exactly, but Donna knows how it makes her feel: upon saying goodbye, Donna’s heart drops into her stomach. Something is _wrong_. She knows it.

 

            But it isn’t going to be dealt with tonight. So Donna does what she does best: she compartmentalizes. She says goodbye to the others and wrangles the girls into the car, taking the long way home in hopes of clearing her head.

 

-     -   -

 

             In the morning, after both girls have left for school, Donna spends some time fixing the wiring on their microwave. Cameron arrived sometime in the middle of night and though they haven’t had a chance to speak yet, some part of Donna knows a big conversation is coming.

 

             She can’t spend long considering _what_ is wrong, exactly, because her mind will drive her crazy with the possibilities. She’s still holding out hope that she’s overreacting—that nothing life altering happened between Bos and Cameron last night and that she hadn’t _felt_ it as she’d made her way down the steps into the garage.

 

             She distracts herself in the only way she really knows how: machinery. She thinks briefly of Gordon as she unscrews a panel, and wonders how much of her life will be spent fixing things and missing Gordon. Only time will tell.

 

             And, sometime around noon, when she’s deep in the throes of it, Cameron emerges from the bedroom.

 

             Cameron looks exactly as Donna likes her best, in comfy clothes, hair mussed from sleep, eyes swollen. She wanders through the kitchen to pour herself coffee. On an ordinary day, with the girls out, Donna might wander up and hug her from behind, greeting her with kisses in her favorite spot, just under her ear.

 

             Today, nothing is said. Not even good morning.

 

             There’s no good morning kiss.

 

            “Good morning.” Donna tries, and she musters up her best smile, pushing thoughts of things she did or said that might’ve bothered Cameron out of her mind.

 

            “Morning.” Cameron responds.

 

            Cameron lingers at the end of the island, both hands around her mug on the table. She doesn’t say anything, but she’s clearly preparing to. Donna puts her screwdriver down.

 

           “I need to tell you something.”

 

            She lifts her gaze to meet Donna’s. Donna doesn’t say anything.

 

            “I told Bos about us.”

 

            Donna’s heart stops.

 

            She starts to speak then stops again. She stands, pacing a little. Cameron reaches out to try to touch her but Donna lifts a hand, warning her off.

 

            “What’d you…?”

 

            “—I just told him that we were together. The way he and Diane are.”

 

            “ _Why_?”

 

            “It’s… _It’s Bos_. I don’t know. I… I think I just—“ She cuts herself off, blinking tears back, “I think sometimes I forget that you and I aren’t just… in my head.”

 

            She meets Donna’s eyes again. “It felt _so good_ to say it out loud, Donna. _So good._ ”

 

            Donna sighs, looking up at the ceiling. “Cameron, you can’t just—he’s… he’s gonna tell Diane. What if she tells Trip? What if they use this against me at Symphonic?”

 

            Cameron looks concerned, leaning over the island. “Did you just expect us to keep it a secret _forever_?”

 

            Donna stops. She sniffles, swallows, and then starts: “I… I just thought we would have a plan, Cameron. Not just go around _telling_ people.”

 

            Cameron starts to speak again, but Donna cuts her off: “You should’ve discussed it with me first.”

 

            “Bos isn’t going to tell anyone. C’mon, you know Bos.”

 

            “I saw him last night, Cameron… he couldn’t look me in the eye,” she pauses, trying to push the knot out of her throat, “I don’t know what I know.”

 

            Donna puts a hand to her forehead, wandering to the glass doors. She pushes her hair back out of her face, trying to breathe.

 

            “I need to be alone,” Donna says, “we can talk about this later.”

 

            She can see Cameron’s slack-jawed expression in the glass.

 

            “ _Donna_.”

 

            “We can talk about this later.”

 

            They stand like that—Donna’s back to Cameron—for a few heartbeats until Cameron finally relents. Cameron takes her coffee and heads back down the hall to their bedroom, and Donna stays there, facing the window, crying.


	7. Walls Come Tumbling Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Donna's mind is a very lonely place...

            Donna starts swimming again.

 

            And it’s not that Donna ever stopped, really, but it’s that swimming starts doing what it used to do for her again. She’s able to calm herself, center her mind, and push out the overwhelming negativity (this time mostly self-inflicted) until it’s all noise drowning in the background of her mind.

 

            She and Cameron haven’t spoken in three days.

 

            It’s not that they’ve ignored each other, because they certainly haven’t. Cameron has been extra aware of Donna, watching and anticipating her in a way that Donna finds just as annoying as she does endearing. Every time she turns, it seems, Cameron is helping her with something and looking at her with those _eyes_ and some part of Donna wants to relent and talk to her. The other part _can’t_.

 

            Donna’s being the stubborn one this time. And she kind of knows it.

 

            She surfaces in the deep end, grabbing the pool wall and gently rubbing the water out of her eyes. Northern California is unseasonably warm this November, and the nearly direct sunlight she’s getting makes it feel like spring. When she opens her eyes, she finds Cameron watching her from the window.

 

            Cameron has her hair tied up in that adorable small ponytail, and something about her expression, so thoughtful, draws Donna in. Donna watches her from across the yard, briefly forgetting to be mad.

 

            Cameron takes that as license to come outside.

 

            And really it’s Donna’s fault for holding her gaze. She sighs.

 

            Cameron makes her way over to the edge of the pool. Donna halfway expects her to say something, but instead Cameron just lingers shyly beside Donna, looking down at her. Cameron offers her a small smile and it’s enough to make Donna’s heart melt.

 

            (Briefly, Donna remembers the Cameron that would’ve gotten pissed at Donna in return and been terribly, self-destructively stubborn about all of this.)

 

            (Privately, she’s proud.)

 

            But before that warmth can set in, Donna remembers the torn feeling in her gut at the idea of the people they know, their _world_ , knowing about them. And Cameron, despite everything Donna feels for her, betrayed her trust. This was hard. This was delicate. She won’t let Cameron bulldoze through something this massive; she won’t let her come out for both of them. She _can’t_ give in. She just _can’t_.

 

            She swallows.

 

            “I’m not ready yet.” She says.

 

            Cameron’s eyes beg her to reconsider. But she can’t.

 

            Donna drops back into the pool and swims away.

 

-     -   -

 

            Later that day, Haley and Donna go to the grocery store.

 

            It’s a pretty typical grocery run, all things considered. Haley had even volunteered to come with her, which was new (not that she was complaining). But she’d been uncharacteristically quiet the whole trip, and now, loading the groceries into the car, Donna finds herself wondering why.

 

            School had been fine; Haley had formed her school’s GSA and had been pretty active in her robotics club. Usually, car rides with her were filled with chatter about school friends and Natalie, and Donna had to cut in to remind her that other people had things to talk about. But now, as they sit side-by-side in the car, driving home, Donna can’t decide what’s gotten into her daughter.

 

            Donna chances a glance at Haley, who just kind of looks down at her hands.

 

            Something is definitely up. A mother always knows.

 

            “Everything okay?” At her words, Haley moves to look at her, eyes calculating. Her expression shifts into confusion, and then into a small but confused smile.

 

            “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

 

            Donna frowns. She doesn’t say anything, focusing on making a left turn. She feels Haley watching her, and tries to school her expression into something appropriate—

 

            “… is everything okay between you and Cameron?”

 

            Donna bites her lip. She finishes her left turn, hitting another stoplight. She meets Haley’s eyes because doing anything else would betray how uncomfortable she feels at the phrasing of the question. “Between you and Cameron”, as though she and Cameron had something _between_ them. And obviously, they do, but…

 

            Donna considers lying first, but who is she kidding? They all live in the same house. The girls _know_ they’re fighting. She decides to instead be vague.

 

            She hopes there’s a way to both have this conversation delicately and not end up crying on a trip to the grocery store with her daughter.  

 

            “We had a disagreement.”

 

            Haley waits for Donna to elaborate. When she doesn’t, Haley asks, “What do you guys disagree about?”

 

            “It’s… complicated. Adult stuff.”

 

            “… is it about Pheonix?”

 

            “No, no… it’s…” Donna trails off, feeling a little pathetic. She turns down the main drag home, pensively biting her lip and hoping to somehow avoid having to talk about this.

 

            She stares straight ahead and Haley, somehow understanding, doesn’t press her to finish her sentence. A few seconds pass—long ones—and Donna wonders if they’re just going to drop the topic altogether when Haley speaks again:

 

            “… I know you’re mad. And I don’t know what Cameron did or anything, so it’s not like I can really tell you not to be mad, but—”

            Donna finally looks over to Haley then, and when their eyes meet she feels herself go still. Haley’s next words feel as though they’re clutching at her lungs, making it hard to breathe.

 

            “We… we all know how much you care about Cameron. And… I care about her too. And I… I don’t want her to have to leave.” Donna blinks. She looks out at the road but her mind moves at a mile a minute, jumping through the implications of Haley’s words.

 

            “I don’t mean that like, selfishly or anything either. I just… we, Joanie and I—well, Cameron’s been so good for you. You… you’re just, like, happier. And… I think… I think that’s because of her.”

 

            Donna wants to cry. She raises a hand to her mouth, thumb rubbing at her lips, expression fixed on the far-away horizon in front of her. She can feel Haley’s eyes on her actions, and she silently wishes she could do anything about them and what she knows they look like—she knows she looks stressed, emotional, heartbroken—

 

            “You don’t have to say anything. It’s okay.” Haley says, and Donna breathes a sigh of relief. She laughs a little, and Haley laughs with her, and for a moment Donna tries to forget the fear that has wedged its way into her heart. But even the soft smile Haley offers can’t wrestle her heart free—she’s terrified. That’s what this is.

 

            And she has no idea what to do about it.

 

-     -   -

 

            Not for the first time, Donna wishes she could call Gordon.

 

            She has no idea what she’d say to him… if she could even honestly talk to him about _this_. _This_ has so far required more vulnerability than she can muster up, and patience and self-love beyond what she seems to possess.

 

            She’d forgotten how isolated her world was without Cameron. And now, lying in her bed, alone, Donna finds herself drowning in that isolation.

 

            She cradles the cordless phone in both hands, looking at it on the bed across from her, fingers itching to dial Gordon. To tell him she’s in love with a crazy, ridiculous, fascinating, _terrifying_ woman and that she’s screwed up, and that she has no idea what to do now that she’s gotten herself here.

 

            The truth, when she let herself think about it, was that, very easily, in a way Donna could track throughout her life, her relationship with Cameron had always sort of begun where her relationship with Gordon ended and vice-versa. Donna needed a rock. Her worst years were when she hadn’t had either of them at her side; when she’d had to get by on her own.

 

            Even worse, most of the time those years spent alone were self-inflicted isolation. She would drive them both away… God, she was terrible: relentlessly co-dependent even when she’d been the one to push them out of her life. There was a reason both of those relationships had ended up souring, even if they ended up blossoming again later, and Donna blamed herself.

 

            What had she done the last time she was drowning in self-pity this way?

 

            …Besides nearly blow up her life?

 

 _God_ , she wishes she could call Gordon.

 

            Her mind briefly flits to other friends: Bos, whom she adored but couldn’t speak to about this, knowing he knew. Knowing he was likely disgusted in some way he wouldn’t articulate and that he’d never look at her the same way again.

 

            (She wonders, briefly, if his love for Cam would trump any distaste he has for her actions. It has in the past.)

 

            (She sincerely hopes that this isn’t the exception.)

 

             She thinks of Diane, and how many times she’s come to Donna’s rescue, with the right words or the right advice. Even now, Donna wants desperately to impress her. And this, well…

 

             Donna knows it happens now, knows that people live openly this way, _especially_ out here in California. She wonders why it’s so easy to support Haley and yet a completely different feeling when it’s _herself_.

 

             She decides not to follow that train of thought, shutting her eyes tightly.

 

             Before she can decide why, the image of Joe, whiskey in hand, telling her to call him appears behind her eyes.

 

              Joe would understand.

 

             And despite all their history, and all their ups and downs, and everything she knows 1984 Donna would feel at the thought of calling Joe of all people for support, Donna rolls out of bed, grabbing her address book and dialing Joe’s number.

 

             Her heart beats in her ears as she listens to the phone connecting.

 

             “This is Joe.”

 

             “Joe, hi—it’s Donna.”

 

              She can hear his smile in his words on the other end of the line and she feels like she can breathe again.

           

              They flounder through hellos for several minutes before Joe finally prods her into talking: “What’s wrong, Donna?”

 

              And it’s true; they’ve never really been the pair for small talk.

 

             “I… I messed up,” And then, because it wasn’t all her, she adds, “we messed up.” Like that’s anymore descriptive.

 

             “What happened?”

 

             “Cameron told Bos about us.”

 

             Joe doesn’t say anything immediately so Donna adds, “Without talking to me about it, of course.”

 

            “Of course.” She hears his smirk and can picture it.

 

            “Why?” He asks.

 

            “She… said that it felt like our relationship was all in her head. That saying the words made it feel real for her. That it felt good.”

 

            “Hmm.”

 

            Donna lays back in the bed, staring up at the ceiling, listening to Joe’s breathing, hearing the gears turn in his mind.

 

            For the first time in a long time, she’s not terrified.

 

            She wonders why that is.

 

            “So how did that make you feel, then?”

 

            Donna laughs, “what?”

 

            “You’re calling me. You wouldn’t do that unless you wanted to talk about—“

 

            “I know, I know…”

 

            Donna sighs, sitting up, back against her headboard. Tears sting at her eyes unexpectedly, and she reaches up to preemptively wipe them away.

 

            “I… don’t know if I can tell people yet.”

 

            Joe doesn’t say anything for a bit. “That’s… understandable.”

 

            “But… she wants to. I know she does.” Donna tries to swallow the knot in her throat, but somehow just closes it tighter, and her voice comes out strangled and too high: “And… if I let her, everyone will know.”

 

            Joe listens to her cry.

 

            “And if you don’t?”

 

            Donna can’t bear the thought. But in her heart of hearts, she knows:

 

            “Then I lose her.”

 

-     -   -

 

            Donna wakes up late the next day, phone lying on the pillow beside her. She doesn’t remember falling asleep.

 

            The light trails in from her floor-to-ceiling windows, and Donna’s sleepy brain fills with images of Cameron, half naked, rolling away from the sun and burrowing into Donna’s shoulder.

 

            Donna closes her eyes and imagines morning kisses and brushing the hair from Cameron’s eyes. Cameron’s eyes that always look to read her like she’s the beginning, middle, and end of a longer story; like she’s captivating and new, but also steady and stable, like home.

 

            And she knew last night, on the phone with Joe. But now, sitting up in bed alone, picturing waking up like this for the rest of her life, she knows what she has to do.

 

            She has to fix this.

 

-     -   -

 

            She mixes cream into her coffee, watching Cameron flip through a newspaper on the counter beside her.

 

            Cameron has taken to very kindly and dutifully ignoring Donna when they’re together. Donna, for her part, understands that this is polite _and_ what she asked for and still finds it infuriating. She knows how hard this must be for someone as ordinarily hot-headed as Cameron; how she must be agonizing over all of this, how all that anger must be building up, ready to burst.

 

            (And if it isn’t, is this Cameron growing up? Or just a sign the Cameron was never that passionate about their relationship in the first place?)

 

            (Donna pushes those thoughts far out of her mind.)

 

            Outside by the pool, Joanie sunbathes. Haley sits curled up in the deck chair beside her, nose-deep in a book. It’s abnormally warm for a Saturday in December, even in California, and her daughters certainly know to take advantage.

 

            She watches them from the window, still mixing her coffee, and then lets her eyes drift back to Cameron, who has now gotten up to cut an orange. Cameron works diligently with the knife, ignoring Donna, and the surge of _something_ that Donna feels watching her do this incredibly basic task causes Donna to abruptly drop her spoon into the sink.

 

            Cameron looks up at her. Their eyes meet.

 

            She only holds Donna’s gaze for a second, clearly unable to read it, and then finishes cutting the orange. She loads the slices on a plate, giving Donna one last glance before wandering out the glass door toward where the girls are by the pool.

 

            Donna is left in the kitchen clutching her coffee, her heart pounding.

 

            How does she even go about this? What does she say? It feels like two weeks too late for this conversation—a conversation that she doesn’t feel fully ready to have.

 

            How can she possibly fix this?

 

            She watches Cameron out in the sun with the girls when she feels it again: that deep swell of _need_ that makes her next actions unpredictable. She puts her cup down decisively, walking with purpose toward the sliding door, realizing that she’s been going about this all wrong.

 

            It’s not about finding a perfect way to come out, or feeling secure in some arbitrary plan. She knows this relationship works. She’s seen it with her own eyes. They have the passion to drive this love and the dedication and respect to sustain it. There’s no question for her. At least, not anymore.

 

            Like most things she’s worked on, they’ll be operating two steps ahead of everyone else, trying to convince them to believe in something they can’t imagine yet. But the only times she’s ever been truly happy are the times where she jumped into something head first and didn’t stop to worry about what others would think, pulling the world kicking and screaming into the next era whether they liked it or not.

 

            Donna forces herself through the threshold of the sliding door.

 

            (This is simultaneously the easiest and hardest thing Donna has ever done.)

 

            She marches up behind Cameron, grabbing her arm. Cameron whips around, and Donna immediately steps forward, giving her a deep, passionate, hungry kiss. She hears Joanie’s gasp of surprise and Haley’s joyous laughter, and pulls away only to have her lips captured once again.

 

            (And in the moment, it feels just like the first time; just like flying.)

 

            Donna pushes closer, and before either of them realize it Cameron is losing her balance and falling backwards into the pool, pulling Donna along with her. They enter the water with a splash and Donna’s so tangled in Cameron she struggles undo herself, smiling giddily.

 

            When Donna and Cameron resurface, it’s to Joanie and Haley’s laughter. Donna only briefly chances a glance at her daughters, who both regard them with such love and pride that Donna can’t even see why she’d been so nervous in the first place. She smiles for the first time in what seems like centuries, and, before she can ever turn to face her, Cameron turns her around and leans in, pushing Donna’s wet hair behind her ears and kissing the smile off her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are all my Valentines. Here is your gift! 
> 
> Thank you for reading! I am so pleased there's an audience for this (albeit small). What a joy to write and what an awesome group of people I've become acquainted with because of it; this is a small community, but a good one. 
> 
> You may have noticed the titles of both the fic and the chapters are also names of songs--this is by design! Go take a listen! They make a playlist! 
> 
> Highly considering 2 next fic options, comment which one you'd prefer and I'll try to make it happen:  
> \- A deep dive into the moments that other characters noticed Donna and Cameron's "special connection".
> 
> \- A long one-shot from Cam's POV (set in the world of this fic) about the moment she knew she was falling for Donna. 
> 
> You're all the best. I love you.


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